Getting Your Heart Dirty
by Verasque
Summary: Modern AU. They say love is friendship set on fire.
1. Chapter 1

_Author's note: This started out as a Regency AU very loosely based on Tom Stoppard's play __**Arcadia**__, but has now been translated into a modern setting. In any case, here's to hoping that it becomes more._

**Chapter 1**

If her father was wondering why she was hanging around the phone, biting her thumb, he didn't say anything. He only shook out the newspaper in his hands and resumed reading. Long, torturous minutes ticked by, until Alanna got up from her perch on the couch's arm and started pacing.

"He doesn't live very far away," Myles said, breaking her train of thought. He was, casually, referring to the fact that Jon lived only a few doors down.

"But it's pouring rain. Surely, he wants to say home and study, instead of coming here?"

"He would have called by now if that were the case."

Her dad's faith in Jonathan was practically legendary. _Of course_ Jon would be nothing less than thoughtful and courteous as to call in advance.

Alanna, on the other hand, wished the older boy would just grow a heart. "Maybe he's decided last minute that it isn't worth the trouble. Skipping one session won't hurt anyone. Besides, I'm sure he doesn't want to get his hair wet." Or his new Levis.

Myles lowered the paper down so he was looking at Alanna over his glasses. He always did that when he wanted her to be serious, or he was about to set a record straight. Right then, it looked like it was time for the former. "Alanna, don't be petty just because Jon takes pride in his appearance. You should feel privileged that he's taking time out to help you each week."

"Pride, Dad? He's outright vain, and everybody knows it."

"Who's vain?"

The boy in question was standing inside their foyer, closing a giant crocodile umbrella while he removed his shoes. Alanna didn't bother hiding her crestfallen expression, and folded her arms over her chest as he made his way over.

"'Morning, sunshine!" he chuckled, and ruffled her hair. He shook her dad's hand before rocking on his heels. "Myles, doesn't she look so excited to quench her thirst for extraordinary knowledge?"

"She sure does."

"Traitor!" Alanna sulked, and poked her tongue out at her dad. He replied by shaking his head and folding up his newspaper. Since it was 10am, she knew he'd be locking himself in his study to make his customary conference calls.

When Alanna had first moved in with Myles Olau, she'd been convinced that even her new adoptive father hadn't wanted to be around her. Now, after several years and one embarrassing fit of confused tears, she knew that he was just very involved in whatever job it was that he did. Jon and her had never quite figured it out. In the end, they'd concluded that Myles had his historian days, his secret agent days, and more often than not, his sommelier days (and nights).

"I simply want you to do good in school. Is that so bad?"

Alanna tried to stay somewhat upset, but failed. Seeing that, Myles got up and smiled. "That's my girl. Now, I have to attend to some business, so if either of you need me, you know where to find me."

Her dad left and Alanna slowly dragged her feet, following Jon into the living room. "I don't mind if you want to go back home," she suddenly chirped, hoping to change his mind. "This is your last year of high school, and you have to get all the possible minutes in that you can to study. Being the considerate, and absolutely understanding neighbour that I a—"

"It's fine."

Was that humour she heard tingeing his words? "Fine. Fail for all I care."

"I won't fail just because I missed a few hours of studying. I wasn't really planning on studying today, anyway."

"So why do you have all those books in your bag?"

"Why else am I here for?"

"This is cruel!" She made certain to appear as small as possible, but it didn't seem to work. Jon was ignoring her theatrics and sliding out his laptop from his backpack with the kind of evil big brother patience that her limited number of female friends fawned over regularly. Why they did so really escaped her comprehension. "I hate studying, and I hate tutoring."

Jon flashed her what she guessed was a hurt look, but his smirking eyes betrayed him. "You shouldn't say such wounding words to me. Instead of being here, I could be at home, researching the Battle of Passchendaele in 1917 or going over Exponential and Logarithmic Functions."

"You just said you weren't planning on studying! You're also the one who approached Dad. I never wanted a tutor. If I had my way, I'd never have to study anything I didn't want to!"

"Well, the extra money is helpful. Not all of us can afford to live in a tri-storey home and go to one of the top private schools in the country." He ignored the pointed look she shot his designer brand outfit. "And Mr Olau has the most brilliant academic mind around. You should try to be a little more dedicated towards your learning, at the very least. And if you can't do that..."

She stared at him expectedly.

"Then practice pretending." Her small mouth gaped, and he looked quite pleased with himself. "The greatest power in existence is—"

"Knowledge, I _know_."

"Good. At least you understood something I've said."

"Hmph, but I fail to understand what reading these horribly dull novels have to do with _anything_. Why can't we study something interesting?" Like the history of the Vikings, or the mysteries of Japanese seppuku.

Alanna had no idea why her tutor forced her to memorise the periodic table or read website articles on soil salination. Worse were Shakespeare's plays. Romeo & Juliet was pretty much the lamest thing Alanna had ever had the misfortune of laying her thirteen-going-on-fourteen year old eyes on. Sure, she vaguely remembered seeing the Leonardo DiCaprio movie version on TV when she was younger, but seriously, did Jon think she was _that_ retarded?

She'd have to remind him that she was unscholarly and normal, not brain-dead and desperate.

"I know you were struggling with The Highwayman last week, so I've decided that you need a break from working on your class work."

"You mean, I don't have to work on it more?" The unexpected hope that flared at his words threatened to jump out of her chest and shout _Hurrah!_ Firmly, she squashed it down to a manageable level.

"Not in the meantime, but we will have to return to it next week. Half a term on it, right? Alfred Noyes is helpful for when—"

"Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you. Thank you!" she gushed, her violet eyes shining. And like each time happiness befell her, she found herself promising silly things. "I promise to try harder with the poem next time. Honest."

"You're starting to scare me. Resembling a girl and all."

Alanna let out a loud hoot and danced around the room, ignoring the jab. If Maude, the Olau's former au pair, had been there, she'd have been horrified at her charge's brashness. Jonathan, tickled, only laughed and set about organising their stuff for the day.

"So are we gonna start something new?"

She said that with Jon at the forefront of her mind, and the hundreds of possible topics he could introduce. Jonathan was practically a genius, who'd managed to fit in quite a bit of interstate travelling with his latest foster family. Combined with his _stellar_ charms, her dad was virtually falling head over heels in love with him.

In fact, it was kind of a shame that Jonathan Banks had no real family. Whereas Alanna's mother had died in childbirth, and her legitimate father had passed away when she was six, Jon never knew his birth parents. She suspected that they must have been good-looking to produce such a pleasant looking son. Even at the tender age of twelve, when high school – and her tutoring lessons – had first begun, Alanna was aware that the older boy's attractive face was not merely skin deep. Even if he was a bit of a narcissist, and a knucklehead for such an intelligent person, Jon was still a coolbean.

"I thought you'd be interested in watching a movie," Jon went on. "Do you like drama and crime?"

"I like _any_ type of movie."

"Hey, that's awesome. I'm glad you're not one of those picky kind of girls. They suck."

"See? Told you I was super."

"Noted. Regular DVD player or the Blu-ray?"

"Blu-ray. I know you'd steal ours if you could."

"You're such a brat. I'm saving up for my own, you know. Between this tutoring gig, and working at JAG, I'll be getting that flat-screen and bonus Blu-ray in no time."

She mock gasped. "You're actually helping the shop? I assumed you spent more time copying the mannequins than meeting your sales target."

"Ha ha. Not funny. I knew you were talking about me just as I arrived."

"So you actually are as clever as they say."

"I can't believe you're only thirteen, yet talk like that."

"Soon to be fourteen. And I can't believe we're going to watch Romeo + Juliet! Jooooon," she complained, and gave him an odd glance.

"No," he said quickly, laughing up a cough. "Sorry to shatter your illusions, but I'm not a closet romantic. The film is suitable, though, isn't it? You just finished the play two weeks ago."

"Why are you such a dork? This is so not fair. You tricked me. Drama and crime, my ass!"

"Tsk, language. Next year, you'll be comparing and contrasting films to their novels. Won't it be amazing that you'll be getting a head start now? It's also killing two birds with one stone." To further prove his excitement at the prospect, he dumped a lecture pad onto her lap. "Just write down any inconsistent things you notice. After this, we won't go back to Shakespeare again. Not until you need to, anyway."

Alanna scowled and popped her feet up noisily onto the glass coffee table. Jon sighed in response and settled himself onto the recliner, pushing up the sleeves of his dark grey hoodie until it reached his elbows. She wondered how bad he'd look if she ran a truck over him. Probably not too bad, her little mental voice whispered. He'd look like a normal person, at worst.

It was ten minutes and a bowl of microwavable popcorn later when she remembered that she meant to ask her worldly tutorosauras something. "Jon?"

"Hm?"

"What does it mean when a girl's getting her knees dirty? I overheard Gary telling Coram that Delia Eldorne was caught getting her knees dirty at the Naxens' barbeque."

Startled, Jon hit the pause button on the control and turned to face her. "Getting her knees dirty?" If he was perturbed by the subject – as Alanna smugly wished – he didn't show it. Rather, his left eyebrow lifted. "The act of getting one's knees dirty, I imagine, is helping around to do some gardening."

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

_Author's note: Just wanted to warn you guys that there are some mature words and concepts in this chapter. Thanks to __scarletmage__ and __FallenTeenHearts__ for reviewing the previous chap!_

**Chapter 2**

"The act of getting one's knees dirty, I imagine, is helping around to do some gardening."

That was not the answer Alanna was waiting for. Did she look like a naïve fool to him?

"Firstly, Mrs Naxen dislikes flowers, and so 'garden' is a most unsuitable term to call her _topiary_. Secondly," and Alanna ticked off another finger, "Are you seriously suggesting that Delia Eldorne, and I repeat, _Delia Eldorne_, was even remotely in the same vicinity, let alone helping out with Mrs Naxen's prized and million-dollar park of sculptured shrubs? Jon, you and I both know that if Delia didn't kill herself for getting a grain of soil underneath her nail, then Mrs Naxen would not hesitate to murder her herself."

"I doubt Mrs Naxen would like it if you called her topiary sculptured 'shrubs'," Jon pointed out.

"That's beside the point!" Alanna was convinced that getting one's knees dirty had to do with sex. And, better yet, she was going to prove it. "It's doing it in your butt, isn't it?"

"Doing what in your butt?"

"Be serious! Tell me the truth. I'm old enough. Who else am I to ask but my tutor?"

"I don't think this is what what your dad meant when he asked me to help teach you."

"Can you just stop being a wimp for a minute, and just tell me?"

"If that's what you want." He threw her a You Asked For It look, before stretching out on the recliner. When he was comfortable again, he reached for the popcorn bowl. "When a girl is getting her knees dirty, she's giving a guy head. A blowjob. Fellatio. You know, sucking on his—"

"Oh."

"Oh, indeed."

Alanna took a minute to pick her jaw up off the floor at his sheer bluntness. Her sight ashamedly fell, but before it could reach that spot in his lap, the remote was back in Jon's hand and keeping her chin up. "Is that a blush on your cheeks? I distinctly remember you saying not a minute ago that you were old enough to handle it."

Jerking her head out of his grasp, she scowled at him. "I have no idea what you're talking about. And I am old enough. Your frankness just surprised me, is all."

She resisted the urge to cover her cheeks. Stupid things! She could feel them going red with embarrassment. As much as she loved having turned thirteen last year, it was also a nightmare. Did all girls start to blush as soon as they hit their teens, or had something just short-circuited in her system?

"So looking at my... jeans..."

"Automatic reaction."

"That's right. You're only twelve."

"Thirteen turning fourteen, in _May_."

"Same thing."

Determined to be mature, Alanna curled the back of her short hair behind her ears and cleared her throat. "Have you had sex? Do you have a girlfriend that giv—you do all those sexual, erm, activities with?" Picturing Jon just kissing a girl was enough to make her frown. Imagining him doing more – whatever that entailed – made her squirm. He'd never once mentioned a girl who'd caught his interest before, not in the whole time Alanna had been in his acquaintance anyway.

"I don't think those questions have anything to do with what we're watching," he murmured, suddenly and clearly uncomfortable. "Furthermore, it's not proper to discuss." With that, he pressed play and returned to his work on the laptop, blocking Alanna out.

To her annoyance, he didn't look back up.

His reaction could only mean one thing, she deduced with triumph. "You _do_ have a girlfriend, don't you?" The minute shake of his head only goaded her further. "Why won't you tell me? If it's a secret, I won't tell a soul. Or is she horrible at kissing? Ooh. _Ooh._ Does she not let you t—"

The sudden, blasted ringing of his mobile phone cut Alanna's interrogation short. Huffing, she didn't find Jon's colossal sigh of relief in any way satisfactory. He cast her a frown, before getting up to answer the call in another room.

When she heard his footsteps returning a couple of minutes later, she quickly darted away from Jon's laptop and back to her spot on the sofa. "Just tell George that he'll have to wait until after I finish up here," he was saying into his mobile. "Yeah, yeah, I got it. Don't forget to pass it on. See ya."

Alanna suppressed her grin as suspicious blue eyes surveyed the room carefully. Deeming it safe, Jon folded his limbs back into the chair and switched off his computer.

"Who was that?"

"None of your business. Keep watching the movie."

"I have been!"

"You haven't written a single word down. How does that work out?"

"I haven't come across anything weird yet."

"You make it sound like you're looking for aliens. Differences, Alanna. You're looking for differences between the original play and the movie."

"What does George want with you?"

"Whatever it is, it's nothing that concerns your nosy little head."

"Bah! I'm going to ask him myself."

"You do that." He waved his hand nonchalantly. Alanna picked up the empty popcorn bowl, intending to fill it up again.

"He's going to be my step-brother."

That halted Jonathan's hand mid-air, and he gave her a curious look. "So Myles is finally going to propose to Eleni Cooper?"

She nodded and flounced into the kitchen, keeping him hanging. Bustling around the kitchen, she was half-way through opening a jar of dip when a dire epiphany hit her. Somehow, she made it back into the living room in one piece.

"Oy, what's the matter?" Jon's face was creased in concern, and she briefly pondered how pale she must look. Gently, she placed the bowl of chips and accompanying dip on the coffee table and turned to Jon, horrified. "Are you hurt?" he demanded. "Do you need me to call your dad?"

"If Eleni marries Dad, then Delia will be my future step-sister-in-law."

Jon's mouth twitched, but he reached over to pat her consolingly on the shoulder. "She's not that bad, kid."

"You're right. She's worse!"

"The only reason you're saying that is because there's a small part of you that remembers what it was like to crush on George Cooper."

"_What_ crush? I _never_ had a crush on George. He's going to be my brother!"

"Oh? Then why is your face so bright red?"

The Monster didn't bother hiding his glee. If he didn't get rid of his shit-eating grin, Alanna would not be held responsible for the carnage that would undoubtedly rival a round of WWE SmackDown.

"You're despicable," was what she ended up spitting.

Jon's eyes widened, as if her come-back was so utterly retarded that it stunned him, before they crinkled at the corners. He let out an accompanying nutty, and slightly scary, heaving noise. It took her a few seconds to figure out that he wasn't hacking up a hairball, but alternately trying really hard not to sound like he was laughing.

"Trust me," he teased. "Delia's pretty great when you get to know her. And George isn't ready to commit himself, um, legally, to her just yet. So don't worry about it too much. Now, can we get back to Romeo + Juliet?"

"Are you sure he's not ready?" Accepting George as her step-sibling was hard enough without having to embrace his skanky bitch of a girlfriend, too. Alanna would just have to sabotage any of the busty brunette's schemes to wriggle a place for herself in the soon-to-be Olau-Cooper family.

"99 percent sure."

"I'll cut my wrists if you're lying."

"Gee, kid. I cross my heart. Will that do?"

"Yeah, I guess. Jon?"

"What?"

"If you ever get a girlfriend, can you make sure she's doesn't like to get her knees dirty in front of everyone?"

She smothered her smile with a pillow as he choked. "Sure thing," he managed.

"Your junior is probably really big, so that might be a problem."

"Alanna—"

"I'm just kidding."

The rolled their eyes at the same time; Jon in relief, Alanna in exasperation. Why a girl would even want to put her mouth on a guy's privates truly eluded and disgusted her, so Alanna dutifully filed that conversation away to the back of her mind. Hopefully by the time she was eighteen, her and her fellows weren't as depraved as their predecessors seemed to be. Conciliated for the moment, Alanna slouched into a cosy niche and started on the chips.

When Juliet's suicide scene came to pass an hour later, Alanna stopped biting her thumb. _If only the letter had reach Romeo!_ Immediately, she inwardly cursed herself for having any emotional reaction to the dratted movie at all. A quiet chuckle nearly startled her, and she saw her dad leaning against the doorway. He motioned at her to be quiet.

Confused, she turned her head to the side and discovered Jonathan sprawled out on the recliner, his eyes closed and his mouth wide open.

"Poor chap. Must've been up all night studying," Myles said, padding into the room.

She doubted that Jon had spent his Friday night hitting the books. Shrugging, she stayed silent when her dad nudged Jon's sock-clad foot. "S'too early," Jon whined, and turned over, unaware of his predicament. The movement of his long limbs upset the recliner and jarred Jon from his slumber. His lost expression as to why his bed was suddenly folded into an upright position caused her to bite her lip.

"Nice nap, son?" Alanna shared a grin with her dad as Jon scratched the back of his head sheepishly. "The pizza should be here any minute, guys."

"Thanks, Myles."

Alanna waited for her dad to leave before poking Jon in the arm. "Some tutor you are, snoozing throughout the whole movie. You missed me writing notes."

"And what did your notes say? 'Leonardo DiCaprio is cuter than how I pictured Romeo, but still not as cute as George'?"

She snarled in response and chased him around the kitchen, bent on slaughter. Sadly for the two males, not even the pizza – freshly hot and extra cheesy – deterred Alanna's rage.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

The minute Alanna saw their guest companion, she knew the day would be spectacularly horrible. Josiane Rittevon's shiny blonde hair hung like a sheet of straightened gold to mid-back and Alanna's eye twitched at the giant smile painted across the older girl's face.

"Hi there!" Malibu Barbie beamed, her teeth white enough to blind Alanna momentarily. "You must be Alanna. I'm Josiane, but you can call me Josie."

_Josie_ probably practised that honeyed line in front of the mirror repeatedly, thinking that greeting Alanna first would win her brownie points. Dense girl.

"Um, okay," Josiane mumbled nervously, sliding shotgun into the car like a movie star. "Hey Jon," she whispered to a grinning Jon, and Alanna turned her head away in disgust at the hungry looks in their eyes.

Two peas in a pod they were, thinking that 'we're just really good friends' was in any way a sufficient excuse for 'we're just really good friends, who _just_ want to follow that modern trend where we _just_ elude commitment but are _just _insanely horny for each other'.

Utterly unbelievable! Relegated to the role of five-year-old stuck in the back seat of her supposed babysitter's car was not Alanna's idea of a parent-less and homework-free Saturday. Especially not when his unofficial girlfriend – imagine! Jonathan Banks in a _relationship_ – was tagging along.

"Thanks for inviting me along, guys," Josiane babbled on, sparkling under Jon's approving nod. Alanna was tempted to smack her neighbour's head, but settled for silently labelling him as an _idiot au total _instead.

"I don't remember Jon or I issuing an invitation. So you really invited yourself..."

"Mentioning that we were going bowling and catching a movie was an unofficial invite, but one nonetheless," Jon explained, a warning tone in his voice. Unofficial, right. Alanna kicked the back of the driver's seat with her foot and wondered what brand of super glue Josiane used to keep that smile on her face. That couldn't be comfortable.

Deciding to be nice – because Alanna Trebond didn't do _friendly_ with bouncing rays of sunshine – she set her lips in a winning smile. "So do you go to the same school as Jon?"

"Oh yeah," Josiane replied, her surprise hampering her delight in Alanna's sudden change of attitude. Jon's eyes narrowed, but Alanna easily avoided eye contact with him through the rear-view mirror. "We're in the same homeroom actually. And we share some of the same classes."

"That's cool. What is he tutoring you for then?"

"Huh? He isn't tutoring me for anything."

"Sorry, my bad. I just assumed..." Alanna could already hear the strain of Jon biting his own tongue. "I mean, he tutors me. And he doesn't really hang around dumb girls outside of school unless he's helping them with their homework." Never mind that she was, in essence, referring to herself as academically challenged. Dangling the bait was too hard to resist, and a random perverse part of Alanna wanted to hear them concede that there _was_ something going on between them.

Josiane turned a pink face out towards her own window. The awkward silence lasted for a minute before Josiane spoke again, seemingly having regrouped herself. Dammit, why?

"What school do you go to, Alanna?"

"Corus High."

"Wow! Huh, I've never seen you around before."

"There are another eight-hundred-and-ninety-seven students attending, you know."

"Erm, that's right. I—don—How long have you and Jon known each other?"

"Probably longer than you've known him."

"Alanna..." That was Jon. It was funny when he started grizzling like a grumpy bear. It reminded Alanna of the time last year when he'd thrown a testy fit after finding out that she'd stuffed his rain-soaked, favourite Adidas hoodie into their clothes dryer without his permission. He proceeded not to speak to her for that entire week, the tiny little lints that had accumulated all over the sodding jumper testament enough to his prima dona freak out. It was not her fault that she hadn't known not to mix certain clothes together.

Her first and only act of thoughtfulness was wasted on him.

"What? Are you refuting that factual point?"

Jon and Josiane shared a meaningful look, the one that clearly said 'Kids are so immature these days', and it was enough to send Alanna's blood pressure through the roof of Jon's Audi. Where the heck did they get off thinking they were so high and all-knowing just because they were a few years older?

Jon always was a bit of jerk when they were around other people. Other people meaning other _girls_. She was kind of a fool to believe it might be different now. She was still the little kid next door – not the good, teenage friend she'd been hoping for.

Miffed, she spent the rest of the ride to the shopping centre sulking silently.

Josiane turned out to be more clever than Alanna gave her credit for. She refused to leave their company, hogging Jon's attention whilst making it appear as if Alanna was a petulant and vindictive little brat. Which she absolutely _wasn't_. So when Josiane finally left them for a quick trip to the loo, it took 0.7 seconds for Alanna to formulate her next course of action.

"The vendor is all the way back inside the mall," Jon explained, his eyes never leaving the doorways leading to the bathrooms. "We can't just leave Jo without telling her."

"Don't worry, I'll stay here and wait."

His disbelief could be seen from a kilometre away.

She scrunched up her face in annoyance for credibility. It wasn't exactly a hardship. "Trust me, I'd be more than willing to keep an eye on your girlfriend so long as you buy me some hazelnut gelato."

"She's not my gi—"

"Your girl _space_ friend then, Romeo. Now hurry up before the vendor closes!"

"It's only one-thirty. Shops don't close till five."

"Will you just go? Or do you want me to tell my dad that you ignored me the entire time because you had a girl with you?"

"You're such a little shit sometimes."

"Don't worry, big shit. You're still king."

Jon glared firmly before stomping off, his message clear. If she so much as antagonised dear Josie, he'd be shoving Shakespeare down her throat at their next tutoring session. Good for him, she wasn't intent on riling Josiane up. Ditching someone was hardly antagonising. Convinced, Alanna hefted her backpack higher up her shoulder, and headed for the elevators. If she took the long way, she'd avoid Jon and waste a few minutes.

Perfect.

She was looking through a catalogue when she finally reached Jon. He was just slipping his wallet back into his pocket when she bounced up next to him and swooped her tub of hazelnut gelato from his hold. "Thanks!" she announced, and beamed up at him.

He grumbled something before shrugging and looking around. "Where's Jo?"

Alanna crossed her fingers. "She saw some of her friends and said she'd meet us outside the cinemas."

Jon scratched the side of his jaw with his pinkie. Any doubts he might have had over Alanna's answer was concealed. "Righto. Let's go then."

"Didn't you get some for yourself?" She pushed her gelato into his face.

"I'd rather save the money for my new, state-of-the-art flat-screen."

Said in true Jon fashion. Alanna stuck her tongue out and hugged her dessert closer to her person. She trudged along beside him, trying to match his long strides. Jon was still growing, even at seventeen, and a small part of Alanna resented him for making her feel shorter than usual. She barely cleared his shoulder as it was, his tall, lean frame easily towering over the crowds streaming on either side of them.

The looks he was garnering from many of the girls passing by were making him strut, and if Alanna wasn't so trigger happy with her hazelnut gelato, she'd be telling him off for being such a poser. She had a reputation to uphold, for goodness sake.

When Jon's mobile rang, Alanna gulped and knew she was possibly in deep shit. Josiane no doubt would be looking for them, and Alanna was *so* stupid to forget that Barbie and Ken here would have each other's number. Jon didn't even glance her way for the entire two minutes he was on the phone, and Alanna could already see the extra and completely unnecessary articles she'd be deconstructing in coming weeks.

Or worse. More Josie. More Josie and Jon. More Josie and Jon _with _Alanna.

"Couples suck," she whined, and resigned herself to her fate.

The sudden flare of Jon's nostrils and the twinkle that entered his gaze was like blood signature on her contract with the devil.

"Glad to know that you're aware of your punishment."

"I'm not dumb."

"Never said you were. And Josiane and I are _not_ a couple."

"Yeah, and I'm Fa Mulan."

Jon grinned—pounced really. "You still watching Disney, Ally?"

"No," she hissed, swivelling her head around to ascertain that no one had heard Jon's comment. "Don't call me _Ally_. That's just—grotty. _Girly_. And how do you know about Disney movies?"

"I have two foster sisters. Remember?"

"Excuses, excuses. You're so full of them."

"Hell, kid. Don't talk that way."

The cross expression on Jon's face didn't last long. Not until they emerged back outside and found Josiane waiting for them patiently. As they drew closer, Jon slung his arm around Alanna's shoulders and leaned to whisper into her ear.

"You're going to apologise if you don't want your dad to know about this little prank of yours. Hiding from Jo without a word was pretty cruel. If you want to avoid getting lectured, you'd better listen to me."

Smiling apologetically at Josiane – who was staring at Alanna fiercely – Jon kissed Alanna on the side of her temple like a big brother and left her behind so he could comfort the blonde. If that wasn't a warning, Alanna didn't know what was. Scuffing her shoe loudly against the cement, she trailed after them, refusing to apologise. She'd just have to spill her drink on Josiane's top later on. That way, Jon would be forced to give his girl _space_ friend his jacket. Jon would win. Josiane would win. And Alanna wouldn't have to say sorry.

There, her friendly duty for the day would then be complete.

TBC


End file.
